issue: childless by choice
POSTED 09.03.2010 @ 15:22
Why does society vilify women who choose not to have children? Alexandra Carlton spoke to the women who live life on the defence.
"Honestly? We don’t need any more kids. We have plenty of people on this planet.”
If you’re a childless, 30-something woman, try throwing that cat among the pigeons next time you’re at a dinner party. Cutlery will clatter. Eyebrows will shoot heavenwards. Fellow diners will nervously clink ice against the edge of their glasses – except for one wit in the corner who’ll lob a cheap “no one would knock you up, anyway” gag in an attempt to lighten the mood. Women who don’t want kids make us anxious.
They’re threatening. They subvert the natural order of things. Or so it must feel if you’re one of them.
In fact, the woman who gave that controversial quote was Cameron Diaz, who snapped it in response to an interviewer asking whether children might one day be on her horizon. For the 37-year-old actress it was probably the four-thousandth time she’d been asked the question in an interview. And if you ask any woman who classes herself as “childless by choice”, she’ll probably tell you her tally isn’t far behind. A woman who doesn’t want children has a lot of explaining to do.
“People really pry,” says 33-year-old flight attendant and personal trainer Elisha Boon, who says she has never felt any physical urge to have a biological child and doubts she ever will. “I was at an engagement party for a friend recently and one of the groomsmen got in quite a heated discussion with me. He said all the usual stuff: ‘Who’s going to look after you when you’re old? You’re being selfish.’ He even went so far as to say having children was God’s way and I was going against it. It was pretty ugly.” The pretty blonde, who is in a steady relationship with a man who shares her desire to remain child-free, says she never wants to give up the lifestyle she enjoys to make room for children. “I like being able to go overseas for a holiday whenever I want,” she says. “Plus, I love my work, especially my gym and training business. That’s my baby, and I get as much satisfaction from watching it grow as a parent would get from watching their child grow.”
Gemma Laurelle, a 30-year-old actress and legal secretary, rolls her eyes as she recounts the objections she regularly fends off when she mentions she doesn’t want kids. “ ‘You just haven’t found the right man,’ is a big one,” she begins. “ ‘You’ll change your mind when you’re older’ or ‘You must hate children.’ ” Laurelle, who, like Boon, says she values her freedom too much to give it up for kids, says she isn’t even safe from interrogation within her own family: her mother constantly plays the When will I have grandchildren? card.
“I tell her I’ve made a decision and she has to live with it. But it really seems to upset people. I wish they’d understand that it is my choice and it’s really not that big a deal.”
Yet it continues to be a big deal for a great many people. According to a 2002 Australian Bureau of Statistics social trends survey, 17 per cent of women will remain childless either due to circumstance (such as not finding an appropriate partner) or by choice. In 2006, 37 per cent of women in the peak child-bearing age of 30–34 years had not had any children, though their reasons are not explained. It’s safe to say that the majority are likely to spend a lot of time defending their decision. In Australia, we’re well-schooled in the niceties of tolerating difference, whether it be race, culture, age or sexual preference.
Yet voicing untempered indignation when someone expresses their desire not to have children appears to be a sort of final frontier, a socially sanctioned free-for-all. “I’ve lost a few friends after yelling matches we’ve had over my decision,” says 42-year-old Sydney advertising executive Annabel*, who spoke to madison on the condition of anonymity because she feared a backlash from her colleagues who have children and find her decision objectionable. “The thing is, I really don’t like being around children. Once they’re older and I can talk to them properly they’re okay, but otherwise I find them irritating. I know anyone who reads this will find it offensive, but I wish friends could understand my choice not to have them.”
Sexologist and associate professor of health psychology at James Cook University, Dr Frances Quirk, says it’s not surprising that people − especially those who have or want children − feel affronted by a woman who shuns reproduction. “People who have kids have made a commitment and like any commitment, it has costs,” she explains. “So they are psychologically motivated to challenge people who don’t do the same in order to justify that commitment. We live in a culture where the hetero-normative model says marriage then babies is the way things are. Anything else is strange. We’re socialised into thinking that that’s what we should all be aiming for.”
So what are the real reasons some people are so adamant that a life of nappy changing and school fees (and first words and tooth fairies and sloppy, adoring kisses) will never be right for them? Surely we are biologically programmed to continue the relentless march of the human race across the planet? Just like the birds and the bees are primed and ready to do little else but, you know, make more birds and bees, isn’t it our primary raison d’être to pump out rounds of mini-mes? What makes us any different to the rest of the earth’s creatures?
Well, says Dr Quirk, not much. It’s true that we are, for the most part, all about reproduction. We’re equipped with a physiological arsenal of drives, urges, hormones and synapses that will us, continuously, to make babies. But just like someone can be born without perfect hearing or eyesight, or be good or poor at athletics or maths or drawing, some people are born with lower levels of certain hormones. In women, it’s thought low oestrogen levels or high testosterone levels could result in a diminished to entirely eradicated desire to have babies.
Of course, it’s not all about hormones. Dr Quirk suggests that for nature to influence our behaviour, there needs to be a fair amount of nurture at work, too. A person’s upbringing, experiences or current situation will generally play a part in controlling their desire to have, or not have, children. Two of the women madison spoke to for this story – Annabel and 31-year-old children’s model agent Nicola Allan – admitted that their own mothers had confessed that kids hadn’t exactly been in their grand plans. “My mum always said, ‘If I had my time again, I don’t think I’d have kids,’” relates Allan, who says she personally adores being around children – something she does every day through her work – but has no urge to have any of her own. “I don’t take what she said as an insult. She loves us to death and she’s a great mum. But I can see where she’s coming from. I’ve known from the age of 14 that I didn’t want kids either.”
Dr Quirk says Allan’s attitude may be an indicator that she’s inherited a low oestrogen level from her mother; as a result, each of them could harbour a low or non-existent desire to bear children. Or, “the daughter may be having a psychological reaction against being told that her mother didn’t want her” and doesn’t want to put another child through that feeling of rejection.
But most people who identify as childless by choice will refute the notion that there’s some subconscious, must-get-to-the-bottom-of-this, someone-call-Dr-Phil abnormality behind their decision not to reproduce. “People always think there’s some deep-seated reason for why I don’t want children,” says Jenifur Wale, a 34-year-old model and art teacher from Melbourne. “But it’s really not that complicated. I have a wonderful family. I love kids, especially my nieces. I have had meaningful relationships with men. It’s just that having a child has never been for me. I feel really fulfilled; I don’t need a sense of purpose and I’m not looking for something to fill my time. And I feel loved, so I don’t need a child to give that to me.”
One of the most common stereotypes that deliberately child-free adults regularly face is the assumption that they’re child-haters. Some are, of course. If you visit websites like The Bratfree Message Board and the We Kid You Not! forums, you’ll read posts referring to children as “semen demons” or “crotch droppings”. But it’s not exactly the norm.
Laura Scott, author of Two Is Enough: A Couple’s Guide to Living Childless by Choice, says that a hatred of children is rare, or at least not a primary reason why people remain childless. She conducted a study of 171 men and women about their decision to remain child-free; many talked about still managing to get a “kid fix”. “They actively sought out opportunities to babysit nieces and nephews,” says Scott. “One woman would pick up all her friends’ kids for a weekend and organise what she’d call a ‘camp’, where she’d plan all these really fun activities. That was something she really enjoyed doing – but she also liked giving them back,” she says.
Perhaps not surprisingly, many men find it refreshing to be with a woman who doesn’t want children. Until recently, Allan was in a long-term relationship with a man who had a daughter from a previous relationship and was more than happy to leave it at that. Boon’s partner left an earlier marriage because he and his ex-wife couldn’t see eye-to-eye on the issue. Wale talks about past relationships in which the other party has wanted children; while she’s given the matter consideration, she never felt like she had to breed in order to validate the pairing. Annabel’s husband had a vasectomy and is happy with his decision. “We love and cherish our marriage instead,” she explains. It’s a frightening thought for those of us reaching our reproductive deadline and wondering how we can find someone to have children with – it would seem that many men, given a choice, would be happy to spread their seed but skip the progeny part.
But a man, at least, can change his mind down the track. A woman can’t. Once that fertility window slams shut, there’s very little you can do to bring children into your life – short of adoption or fostering. Each of the women madison spoke to says this fact gives them little in the way of sleepless nights. “I don’t have a crystal ball but I’m 99 per cent sure I’ll never want kids,” says Boon. “If I do, well, I’m responsible for my decisions. I’ll wear it.”
Most of us do have a crystal ball of sorts in our head, however, and it usually involves the kids looking after us when we’re too old to do it ourselves. These women have other plans. “Who needs kids to look after you?” says Boon, laughing. “With all the money I’ve saved on school fees, I’ll be in a five-star retirement home drinking margaritas for lunch!”